


we're stealing a shawn

by nothanksweregood (eavis)



Series: straight for your heart (wolfpack au) [12]
Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Werewolves, the mystery machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eavis/pseuds/nothanksweregood
Summary: A Mystery Machine! Bad (debatably good) Ideas! Shawn Mendes Doesn't Want To Be A Rockstar! First snow! Christmas cookies! Snowball fights!this fic has it all! also feat. possibly one of my favourite lines I've ever written!





	we're stealing a shawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geewhizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geewhizmo/gifts).



> with apologies to Andrew Gertler, who i'm sure is a very nice person in rl but i needed a villain. that said if you are andrew gertler please do not ever read this.
> 
> and with thanks (as ever and always) to b @littlepetlouis for her encouragement and timely beta work. love u babe.
> 
> title comes (indirectly) from leverage. i also decided i was getting tired of not being able to remember which fic was which, so have an actual pertinent title for once even if it doesn't sound as artsy.
> 
> and before i forget! this fic was originally intended as a birthday fic for heather. heather, i am so sorry it's taken me a million years to finish this, but here you are! happy birthday/early christmas! all my love xo

“Louis.”

Zayn’s very calm. He’s perfectly calm about this, honestly. It’s just, when the Vectra finally coughed its last and gave up the ghost, they had to get a car. And, typically, it died the night before Zayn left on a two-week trip for work, and Louis promised to take care of it; insisted Zayn not worry. 

And now there’s a van, big enough for all of them, certainly, but also looking like a relic from The Who’s tour and held together with rust and hope, sitting in their front yard.

“Louis, what  _ is _ this?”

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Louis grins, hands in his pockets and one of Liam’s beanies crammed on his head. “Can’t believe it was only a thousand pounds! And he threw in two extra tires for nothing.”

“It’s -“ Zayn looks from the rattletrap to Louis’ beaming face and gives in. “As long as it runs and you’re happy with it, I’m happy.”

Louis looks at him for a second, frowning, and then his face clears. “Oh! Oh, no, this is just part of it - I mean, obviously it looks awful, but  _ look _ at it, Z! Notice anything?”

_ Besides the rust _ ? Zayn almost says, but swallows it back, studying the car for a long moment before turning apologetically to Louis, shaking his head. “Babe, I don’t -”

“It’s a 72 Ford Econoline!” Louis interrupts, and when Zayn still looks puzzled, “Look, imagine it’s blue and green with some red flowers, oh, here, and -”

“It’s the Mystery Machine!” Zayn drops his bag, grabbing Louis by the shoulders and twirling him around. “Lou, you bought us a Mystery Machine!”

Louis laughs, darting in for a kiss. “See! And Liam says he knows how to strip it and get most of the rust off, and then you can paint it! Admit it, I have the best ideas.”

Zayn just kisses him again.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, tucked up in bed with Harry flomped across their feet and no doubt drooling all over the duvet, Louis says into the darkness, “You don’t think it’s too - I mean obviously all my ideas are brilliant, but we could have put the money as a down payment, you know, like we’d talked about doing.”

Zayn wriggles around until he’s facing Louis, groping for Louis’ hand underneath the covers. “I love it,” he says, punctuating his words with a tight squeeze. “Bro, it’s gonna look so fuckin’ sick. Like,  _ so _ sick. And we can put one of them floor levelers in, even, and take like, a shitload of blankets an’ pillows and crap and go for road trips in it. Much better than some boring brand new transit van.”

“Okay,” Louis breathes out. A Peter Pan-esque crow is back in his tone as he adds, “Fuckin’ knew it, didn’t I. All my ideas are brilliant, so.”

“Mmm,” Zayn says, non-committal.

Louis shoves himself up. “What d’you mean by that vague humming noise! Zayn Malik, name  _ one _ time I had a bad idea!”

“What about the time we were out of flour so you told Liam to just substitute confectioners sugar because ‘they look just the same, Leemo; no one’ll know’ and then they melted away to absolutely nothing as soon as they hit the hot pan?”

“Okay, hang on, that was -”

“Or last week when Niall said even a werewolf couldn’t safely jump out of that tree and you said ‘Watch me’ and -”

“It was  _ barely  _ even a sprain, and it healed in like a week! You’re just -”

“ _ Or _ the time the sink was backed up and you watched a video on youtube and decided you could fix it and ended up flooding half the bathroom?”

“...All right, admittedly that was not one of my finest moments, but I feel like all my times of genius outweigh these few trifling incidents.”

“...Mhm.” Zayn says, and promptly kisses Louis before he can voice any more objections.

 

* * *

 

It ends up being a lot more work than Louis anticipated, and he feels a bit guilty about it, even though Liam insists he doesn’t mind. Louis had protested this at first, loudly and volubly, but after a bit Zayn had pulled him away and reminded him that Liam was really working on taking people at their word about things and not just assuming they were lying because they were too nice to tell him to fuck off, so maybe Louis should use this as a kind of practice and take  _ Liam _ at his word about it, too.

“I think at this point Liam’d feel pretty comfortable telling you to fuck off, honestly,” Zayn says, the quirk of his mouth telling Louis he was remembering last week when Louis had been teasing Liam about a pair of trousers Nick had given him for his birthday that, according to Louis, looked like ‘a Military Surplus store threw up all over his legs’ and Liam had told him that Nick said they were the in thing right now and if Louis didn’t like them he could just piss off. Immediately afterward his eyes had gotten very wide and he might have had a panic attack if not for Harry and Niall high-fiving him and crowing victoriously over Louis’ gob-smacked face.

Louis had (reluctantly) agreed to back off about it, but had instead started hanging ‘round when Liam was working asking if Liam was  _ sure _ there was nothing he could do. Or at least he did until Harry tackled him one day on his way out to help and bounced around him nipping at his ankles until Louis transformed and chased him into the woods.

Liam borrows a metal grinding wheel from Richard Dunton, after Niall mentions their project to Ms. Helen at the library, and she mentions it to her knitting group and the man who owns the woodwork shop where the knitting group meets shows up at their house and introduces himself as Richard, a friend of Helen’s, and did they need a metal grinding wheel because he happens to have one with him. He also happens to have two or three pairs of heavy duty welders gloves and a mask and promises to bring by a paint sprayer when he’s at that stage.

Alec, Richard’s nephew, brings three cans of primer by that Tuesday and hangs around the rest of the day. Ostensibly to help mask the car before Liam paints it, but he also asks, shyly, when Liam thinks Louis’ll be home, because he’s got a pash on Louis as wide as Buckingham Palace, and he ends up staying for dinner and goes bright red whenever Zayn or Louis speak to him.

It’s two weeks of working on the van weekends and whenever he has time in the evenings when Liam finally bursts into the living room, covered in paint and grease, but smiling widely. “It’s finished!” he says excitedly. “I mean, Zayn still has to do the actual art stuff, but -”

Louis whoops, jumping off the couch to twirl Liam around in a dizzying waltz. Zayn’s a little more sedate, but he snatches Liam away when Louis gives him a spin to kiss him all over his face and admonish, “What you did was  _ definitely _ art, sweet.”

“Let’s go look,” Harry begs, dancing with impatience. 

Liam hesitates. “Should we wait for Niall to get home?”

“What time is it?” Louis twists Liam’s arm around so he can read his watch. “Seven. He should be home at seven thirty tonight, yeah?”

“We can wait that long,” Zayn says firmly. “No peeking, Lou.”

“I would never!” Louis sounds shocked and horrified from where he’s inching towards the window.

Zayn paints it that weekend, thankful he doesn’t have to go out of town, and that Sunday they all take a daytrip down to visit Harry’s mum and sister and step-dad. They draw quite a few stares, but the Mystery Machine runs perfectly.

 

* * *

  
  


“Have I got everything in the back?” Zayn turns around for Louis’ approval.

Louis looks up from his books, glad of a break from lesson planning (‘The student will demonstrate an understanding of positions and motions of objects.’ Utter tripe.).

Zayn’s hair is long enough to curl now, and it’s far too much work to do all the time, so it’s generally held back in a little nub of a ponytail.

Tonight, though, they’ve got a dinner. Some awful formal thing, but it’s for charity, so of course they’re going.

Zayn’s not done his makeup yet, so it’s unlined eyes peering at Louis a little anxiously.

“You’ve got it all,” Louis assures him. “Looks beautiful, bro.”

“Thanks, bro.” Zayn ducks his head, smiling. “I’m thinkin’ just some mascara, like. Maybe a bit of eyeshadow. What d’you reckon?”

“Mmm. Feels like a smoky eye kind of night,” Louis agrees. 

“Wanna do me eyeshadow?”

“If you don’t mind it looking like Doris did it, sure.”

“Nah, y’always do fine.” Zayn sits on the end of the bed and Louis straddles the chair backwards, carefully laying out his palate. 

He mentally pulls up everything his little sisters ever said as they assiduously brushed, patted, and sprayed him in various kinds of makeup.

He’s nearly finished, tongue tucked behind his teeth as he concentrates, when there’s a knock on the door and Harry’s head comes around. “Z, could you - oh.”

“What’s up, Haz?” Louis rubs a thumb lightly over Zayn’s eyelids one final time, the skin thin and soft underneath his touch, before turning his attention to Harry.

“Just wondering if Zayn could do my nails before we leave. Nick gave me this really nice silver polish yesterday.”

“‘Course, babe, just let me finish off here and I’m all yours.” Zayn moves from the bed to the chair, sitting down on Louis’ lap and settling into the hands that come up automatically to steady him. Zayn leans forward, snagging his mascara and applying it with a few deft strokes.

As always, Louis pulls him in for nice long kiss before he puts anything on his lips, and after they pull apart, Zayn breathing a little hard (he really should be doing more than twice a month runs through the woods), Louis turns around and laughs at the longing expression on Harry’s face, opening his arms.

“Come on, then, kisses all ‘round.”

 

* * *

 

The dinner is excruciatingly boring. It’s a lot of very rich people talking about how they’re giving a very small fraction of their wealth away to a mostly unsustainable program in order to look like they’ve actually done something nice for once. One of the more sustainable aspects, though, is to help fund an afterschool tutoring program for Liam and Louis’ school, so they’re all here, respectable and attentive to the awful speeches all throughout dinner.

It’s a mixture of werewolves and one or two witches (sadly not Jesy and the girls) and one vampire, who is obscenely rich and spends most of the night asleep in the corner chair.

After the dinner and speeches people are supposed to mingle. Louis sits down on Zayn’s lap and yawns. Harry disappears to go talk to one of his fancy friends and drags Liam along because he’s on a mission to make Liam just as posh as he is.

Niall excuses himself to the loo. Zayn wonders if Louis is actually falling asleep on top of him.

Maybe they’ll actually all get out of this without starting an international incident and without Harry kissing anyone he shouldn’t. He’s got Louis, and Harry and Liam can usually be trusted to keep one another out of trouble, and Niall never gets into trouble so -

and fuck, he’s definitely spoken too soon.

Niall’s coming back towards him, white as a sheet, but his clenched jaw and fists makes it clear he’s furious, not panicking. Zayn nudges Louis, who swats at him sleepily. Zayn pokes him again, murmuring, “Niall.”

Louis bolts upright and off his lap, zeroing in on Niall at once. “What’s happened?” He’s already reaching, needing, like always with Louis, to touch and feel to reassure.

Niall tips into him easily enough, but fine tremors are running through his body as he speaks quietly enough that not even other wolves could hear. “There’s someone we need to help.”

“Of course,” Louis says at once, gaze finding Zayn’s, who dips his head once in a firm nod. Of course they will, if they can.

“His name is Shawn. He’s seventeen and an omega, and he doesn’t want to be a rockstar.”

Zayn and Louis glance at each other. Niall pulls back a little, looking around and tugging them over to a corner. “His manager’s an alpha. Andrew Gertler. He’s not interested in forming a pack, but he’s got a reputation for finding desperate omegas and promising to make them stars.”

“Abuse?” Louis asks, low.

“Nothing blatant. Shawn’s supposed to be signing something for the next five years tonight, after the dinner.” Niall looks from one of them to the other, eyes pleading. “He just wanted to make music. He doesn’t want to have to churn out hits just to make money.” He swallows. “He said Gertler told him he needed to hit the gym more, because no one was going to want him like he was. He was sixteen.”

Zayn reaches out, cupping a hand around Niall’s neck and squeezing just a little, his other hand slipping into Louis’. “He’s not signed anything yet?”

Niall shakes his head. “Just an MOU. The contract’s happening tonight.”

“Right, then.” Louis’ mouth is a thin line. “Let’s go steal a Shawn.”

 

* * *

 

Shawn is a thin, anxious looking young man with a smile that would be lovely if it didn’t look so strained. He shakes hands with both Zayn and Louis, looking like he might faint at any second. “Niall says you can get me out of this?” 

“We will,” Louis says, firm.

“We’ll do our best.” Just because he’s hopeful doesn’t mean Zayn’s going to promise something they can’t deliver. “If you haven’t signed anything binding that’s a good sign. And you don’t have a pack, yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m born, I mean, so - my mom’s a wolf. I don’t know if that - counts?”

Louis glances at Zayn, who shakes his head. “You’re seventeen. Not that you can’t stay with your birth pack for longer, but you’re of an age where you’d begin to be sponsored to your life-pack. Is there anyone you’re close with? Someone you’ve already started a Bond with?”

“Not - I mean, I was a kid when I left, really. I’ve kind of had to learn a lot this past year, but everything felt just kind of. Hurried? I mean, there were some girls Andrew tried to set me up with but they just felt - I dunno. It wasn’t right.”

Zayn looks to Louis who nods slowly. “Without anything binding legally, any claims of a pack should supercede an MOU, especially if you’ve started a Bond with one of the members.” He looks pointedly at Shawn’s hand tangled in Niall’s. 

“Er,” Shawn says, going bright red.

“I mean, our Niall’s certainly a lovable chap,” Louis says, “but this is rather sudden, isn’t it?”

“Louis,” Niall says, because Louis knows perfectly well he doesn’t like Shawn like that - that he doesn’t like anyone like that.

“No, it’s all right,” Shawn says, shoulders going back. “I mean, they’re going to be my alphas. You can’t have secrets from your alphas.”

Zayn sees the faintly approving look Louis gives at this. He can appreciate the integrity as Louis does the courage. “Go on, then,” he encourages, gentle like he’d be with Harry.

“I - read that magazine article Carlos Smith did? Months ago now, about - about what kind of pack you were. And then I found Niall on Instagram and started following him and then I just sort of - found his youtube and he posts videos of you guys and you were always so  _ nice _ to each other so I started leaving comments and -”

“I’ve been following his music for a while,” Niall explains, “so I knew who he was when he messaged me. We’ve been chattin’ a bit, talking about maybe getting together and jammin’ if he was ever this side of the pond. He’s absolutely sick on the guitar and not half bad on the piano, either.”

“So you’ve been talking for a while, then?”

“Well, yeah. You’ve heard me mention me mate Mendes, surely?”

Zayn and Louis make identical sounds of recognition. 

“Didn’t expect you to be American, mate,” Louis says to Shawn.

“Canadian,” Shawn corrects, then rubs the back of his neck, a bit sheepish. “Um, yeah. I was supposed to record my first big single over here, actually.”

“You’re sure you don’t want this?” Zayn asks, letting go of Louis’ hand so he can step forward, putting a hand on Shawn’s shoulder and somehow despite being four inches shorter, making Shawn look small by comparison. “It’s a lot of money. A lot of opportunity you’d be turning down.”

“I’m sure.” Shawn looks at him squarely. “It’s not worth it. I want to go back to school - learn more about music. Even the level of fame I had - it scares me. I don’t want to have to take security with me everywhere I go and worry about people stealing my underwear and work out twice a day so the girls will want me. I just wanted to make music and have it mean something to people.”

“All right, then.” Zayn turns to Louis, nodding back towards where Harry and Liam are still chatting with some of Harry’s friends. Louis nods and slips away in their direction. “How long have you got before you’re supposed to sign this?”

“Another half an hour, maybe. A little more if he drinks as much as he usually does at these things.”

“Right, then. We’ll vote on it and start the preliminaries as soon as - well, right now, actually.”

Louis is back with Harry and Liam in tow. Liam frowns at Shawn and Niall’s linked hands for a second before his face brightens. “You’re Shawn Mendes! Mate, I’m such a huge fan - your last cover was sick!”

“And you’re Liam,” Shawn smiles, keeping one hand in Niall’s even as he leans in for Liam’s hug. “And you must be Harry.”

“Guilty as charged,” Harry says, smiling affably. Zayn doesn’t like the look in his eye as he takes in Shawn and Niall’s position and says, “Niall, if you’d explain to Liam - I need to speak with Harry for just a minute.”

He pulls him away into one of the family-style bathrooms just before Harry bursts out, “Who  _ is _ that? Why is he holding Niall’s hand? Why did Louis say we were going to have a baby?”

“Hazza.” Zayn waits for Harry’s attention to be on him before he says, “Take a breath, babe. Shawn’s going to be staying with us for a while. He’s a music friend of Niall’s and he needs our help. He probably won’t be staying longterm, but provided you all agree, he’s going to join the pack as a Preliminary so we have a prior claim to him. Otherwise, he’s going to be forced into a contract he doesn’t want for a man who has no regard for him as a person.”

Harry is still obviously upset, but he obediently takes a couple of deep breaths before he says, “Why was he holding Niall’s hand?”

“I don’t know, but Harry, babe. Niall was letting him, and his heartrate was steady.”

Harry takes that in, turning it over in his head for a minute before he says quietly, “He’s an omega?”

“Yes.” Zayn waits a beat. “Seventeen.”

“Oh.” Harry turns away, hands sliding into his pockets and shoulders hunching a bit, curls falling forward to shield his face.

Zayn waits for him, patient, and after a minute or so Harry turns back around, eyes faintly red. “I’m - sorry, I didn’t meant to be so - I just thought -”

“Hey, babe, easy.” Zayn holds out his arms, and Harry goes into them pliantly. Zayn presses his lips to the soft skin of Harry’s ear briefly before murmuring, “You were hurt? Because you thought Niall didn’t like people romantically, and then he was holding hands with someone you didn’t know.”

“I- yeah. I mean, he can like whoever he wants, obviously, it’s not my place to - to try and - I just messed up so badly with all of that, I didn’t want to - I was about to say something stupid, Zayn.”

“You didn’t,” Zayn points out, steady. “You were polite to Niall’s friend, and you were sorry you’d made a judgment about him. That’s all anyone can do.”

Harry nods against Zayn’s shoulder, a little damply. Zayn holds on tight for another minute. “All right, then. You’re all right with him staying with us for a while?”

“Yes, of course. Obviously, if he needs - Yeah. Yes.”

“Good lad.” Zayn leans in for a kiss, which Harry returns eagerly, even though he’s probably getting lip gloss all over Harry’s mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.” Andrew Gertler is staring at them in amused disbelief. “I have a contract with this young man. I’m going to make him famous.”

“What you have is an unsigned contract and a Gentleman’s Agreement. Mister Mendes is now informing you he’s found the arrangement unsatisfactory and wishes to dissolve any business relationship between him and yourself.”

“Now see here, I don’t know who you people are, but I’ve been working on Shawn for a year now! Who do you work for, anyway? I’ve got a record label and a tour lined up and if we play our cards right he could get papped with Selena Gomez in six months!”

“He doesn’t want to be papped with anyone,” Zayn says patiently, “and he doesn’t want a tour right now and he certainly doesn’t want to sign with your record label.”

“You’ve got no right -”

“Interesting you would say that.” Louis smiles, eyes as cold as the overly ornate ice sculpture in the middle of the dining room. “As a matter of fact, we do. We have a Preliminary with him, and he’s begun to Bond with one of ours.”

Gertler stares at them, face turning an unsightly shade of puce. “You - that’s impossible! I checked all his contacts! He didn’t have anyone! I made sure of it!”

“Not sure enough, apparently.” Louis slides his hands into his pockets, the picture of confident insouciance. “He’ll be coming home with his Pack, and as his alpha must agree to any life-altering decisions made by a minor - Zayn, will you be agreeing to his signing this contract?”

“I will not,” Zayn says, grimly quiet.

“Huh, what do you know, I find myself of a similar mind. You can fuck off now, mate, and leave our pack alone.”

“Hold on just a minute.” Gertler takes a step forward, close enough that the height difference is prominent. “How do I know you’re not just making all this up?”

“If you insist, we’re happy to show you Shawn is perfectly content with matters as they stand. We left them in the library.”

Zayn raps lightly on the library door before opening it. Niall’s on the couch with Shawn sitting sideways on his lap, feet resting over Liam’s shoulder as he sits on the floor in front of them. Harry’s lounging with his feet over the end of the couch, head propped on Shawn’s thigh.

They’ve all discarded their suit coats in favor of comfort and most of them have unbuttoned at least the top couple of buttons on their dress shirts.

Shawn’s face goes pale but resolute as they come in. Niall’s hand tightens on his thigh and Liam grips his ankle. 

Gertler advances on him. “Now, Shawn, what’s this they’ve been trying to tell you about not wanting a career? Last time we talked you were all ready to go!”

“I don’t want your kind of career,” Shawn says, stubborn. “I’ve got a pack now. I want to stay with them.”

“Now see here -” Gertler breaks off, looking at Shawn closely. “What the hell did they  _ do _ to you?”

Shawn’s free hand goes up to his neck, and Zayn smiles to himself. They had perhaps been...a bit overzealous in their welcoming of him to the pack. There are bites scattered all over his neck and collarbones with two largeish ones on either side of his neck - the traditional one for a new member of a pack, doubled, as there are two alphas.

“You would think, being a wolf yourself, that you’d recognise a pack introduction when you see it,” Louis says coldly. 

“This is ridiculous! Shawn, you’ve got thirty seconds to come to your senses and sign that contract or the whole deal’s off the table and you can kiss your dreams of making music worldwide goodbye.”

“I’ll stay where I am, thank you.”

“I could have made something out of you! You know how much  _ time _ and  _ money _ you’ve cost me, you little shit! I ought to -”

“Get out.” Zayn lets his canines drop enough to slur his words. “Now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Liam and Harry have sat up, tense, waiting for Gertler to make a move in Shawn’s direction.

Zayn meets his eyes levely. They’re at a public function full of wolves who pride themselves on their traditions. Zayn and Louis have a prior claim to Shawn both by way of his and Niall’s Bond and their Preliminary, and any kind of contract based in the humans’ world is going to be secondary to theirs. Even if Shawn had signed the contract, as his alphas they would have the right to overrule any decision made by a member of their pack.

Gertler looks from Zayn to Louis and spits deliberately at their feet before turning on his heel and walking out.

Louis glances at Zayn who gives him a nod, and he follows Gertler to make sure he’s left as Zayn checks on the boys. 

Shawn’s looking up at him, still wide-eyed, but he eagerly tilts his head to the side, letting Zayn mouth at the side of his neck - part reassurance for Shawn and partly for him.

“You’re all right?” Zayn asks, sitting down by Niall and running a quick hand down his arm in greeting.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, I just - that was it? Are you - will you get in trouble for this?”

“I doubt it,” Louis says, coming back from checking the door and leaning over for his own greeting. “He’s got no legal grounds and honestly, I don’t think he’s the type to spend more time on something he can’t win.”

“And if he does, we’re not letting him take you.” Liam sounds fierce, and Zayn stoops to press a long kiss to his cheek, so proud of how far Liam’s come and of his pack closing ranks unhesitatingly around someone who needs their help.

“Come on,” Harry swings himself up, offering a hand to Shawn. “Let’s go home.”

______

“Liam!”

Liam comes awake with a start to see Harry’s face just by his bed, grin wide enough to etch his dimples a quarter inch deep.

“Liam, wake up, it’s snowing!”

“What?”

“Get up! It’s the first snow of the year! I tried to wake up Zayn and Louis but Zayn just shifted and stuck his head under a pillow and Louis threw a pillow at my face. Let’s go wake up Niall!”

“Right, okay, I’m coming, just give me a minute.”

Harry’s idea of giving him a minute is apparently to sit on the end of his bed and bounce up and down like he’s two instead of twenty until Liam’s up and dressed.

They tiptoe to Niall’s room, Liam starting to catch Harry’s excitement even though he doesn’t have a lot of love for the snow that almost froze him to death last year. He shivers, remembering his long stumbling trek through the cold after the pack had - after it hadn’t worked out with that pack, trying to keep to the woods as much as possible, wondering if he should just let himself lay down in the snow and just stop trying. Stop moving. 

There’s suddenly a warm hand in his and Liam startles. Harry’s looking at him, excitement dimmed as he frowns anxiously. “You okay? I didn’t mean to drag you into anything - you can go back to bed if you want.”

“No, no, it’s - I’m fine, I just - just some old memories.” He tries to smile. 

Harry gazes at him, intent, for another long minute, and then nods, leaning forward to kiss Liam’s nose. “Okay. Let me know if you need to take a break, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” Liam scrunches his nose a bit, but smiles back. “Let’s go get Niall.”

They bundle Niall up until just the very tip of his nose is peeking out, despite his protests, because as Harry whisper-shouts at him, “You’re delicate, Niall! We have to be careful of you! You’re our fragile Christmas angel!”

“Fuck off!” Niall hollers back, past the layers of scarf they’ve swaddled him in.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up Zayn!” Liam says, trying not to laugh.

“Zayn! Louis! Help, help, I’m being repressed!”

“Shhh!” Liam and Harry say in unison, laughing helplessly now.

“Quick, let’s get him outside.” Harry says, grabbing one end of Niall’s scarf and gesturing for Liam to get the other.

Niall gets his revenge once they’re outside, though, following them meekly enough until they get to the edge of the woods and then shoving hard against one of the saplings and dancing away as it releases an enormous pile of snow on top of Liam and Harry.

Naturally, this is grounds for full-on war, and Niall would’ve been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the attack if Shawn hadn’t heard the commotion and woken up, charging out in his bedroom slippers and Niall’s hoodie over his pajamas to defend Niall’s honour.

“Up the yard and over the bar! Charge!”

“I have no idea what that means!” Shawn yells, but scrambles after Niall, pelting snowballs as fast as he can.

A good while into the battle Liam realises that Louis is standing in the door watching them fight, a smile on his face and a Zayn draped over his shoulders, all wrapped in the comforter from their bed.

His distraction costs him, though, because Niall nails him right in the face with a snowball.

“Never surrender!” Shawn yells and tackles him into a snowdrift.

Liam comes up spluttering to see Niall perched triumphantly atop of Harry, scooping up snow and dumping it on his head.

“Truce!” Harry hollers, muffled by the snow in his mouth. “Truce!”

“No truce!” Shawn calls back, already poised to hurl another snowball, and Liam ducks, frantically scrambling for some snow himself.

Before either of them can get a shot off, though, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

“Drop your weapons and come in for hot cocoa!” Zayn calls.

“Last one in has to have it made with Harry’s soya milk!” Louis adds.

“Hey, it’s good!” Harry protests, but the rest of them are already charging for the door.

“Nuh uh! Stop right there and knock some of that snow off.” Zayn thrusts a duvet-covered arm out to block their way.

Liam brushes himself down as best he can.

“I’ll get your back, Payno,” Niall says cheerfully, touching his arm in warning before brushing the worst of it off of him. 

“All right, in with you lot. Hot chocolate, brekkie, and then we’re baking Christmas cookies for all and sundry.”

There’s a various and sundry cheer at that before Louis shoos them off to change out of their wet things and then a brief interlude when Zayn laughs at him for sounding like a gran and Louis bites his collarbone and then the duvet falls dangerously low because Zayn retaliates with a kiss and Harry and Niall helpfully take hold of Shawn and drag him upstairs before he goes any more red in the face.

Liam stays behind, because getting kisses is worth being cold another couple of minutes, and is rewarded with a very satisfactory kiss from Zayn and a lovebite from Louis.

There’s a lot of cheerful chaos as they mix up the cookies - Harry wants to try making truffles, Liam and Shawn want to make shortbread, and Niall and Louis are insisting on the traditional gingerbread and sugar cookies, and Zayn just wants someone to hurry up and decide so he can decorate them.

Zayn’s sitting on a stool in the corner with his favourite beanie on (he stole it from Harry originally, Liam thinks) reading Louis’ copy of The Book of Three, but he looks up and smiles at Liam as he comes over. “Heya, babe.”

“Hi,” Liam edges a little closer, waiting for Zayn’s arm to curl around his waist before he leans all the way into Zayn. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, real good so far. Lou’s making me read it ‘n like, summarize it for him before he’s leading that discussion. I keep telling him he should just read it - it’s only like, two hundred pages, but he says he’s too busy.” Zayn rolls his eyes. At that minute Louis has Harry down on the kitchen floor and is tickling him mercilessly until he agrees to use real chocolate in his truffles instead of carob or white chocolate or something awful like that.

“He should try an audiobook, maybe,” Liam suggests, delighting in the feel of Zayn’s thumb rubbing absent circles on his stomach. 

“Yeah, good idea, that. We could listen in the van, like.”

“Yeah! A pack thing.”

“‘xactly, yeah.” Zayn smiles at him so warmly that Liam feels secure enough between that smile and the physical contact to ask,

“Is it - weird? That we’re. Doing Christmas? I mean, you don’t really - I didn’t even ask if you had things you do instead, last year. For - for - is it Eid? Your Christmas?”

“We did things for Eid, remember?” Zayn puts his book down, bookmark securely in place, giving Liam his full attention. “Louis got all my mum’s recipes to make the traditional food and then he almost caught his apron on fire because his strings got caught in the oven door.”

“And then we went shopping for stuff to take to the homeless shelter, yeah. I just thought - maybe we should do some of that again, or - or if there’s another holiday, we could do that. Just ‘cause we’re not - Muslim, I just didn’t want you to feel bad or weird or anything.”

“Sweetheart.” Zayn reaches for his hand where its fidgeting at his trackies and kisses the back of it. “First off, I’m so proud of you for coming and talking to me about this. I know it’s hard for you sometimes, bringing up personal stuff like this, so thank you.”

Liam feels himself flushing, but he makes himself say, “You don’t always say things, if it’s bothering you. So I thought I’d just check, sort of.”

“I need to get better at that, hey?” Zayn grins at him, lopsided. “I think it’d be really nice to go shopping again for the Hope Shelter, if the rest of you want. I really am fine about Christmas, though. I like all the decorating and cookies and presents and stuff. And people being nicer, that part’s pretty sick.”

“Okay. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I really don’t.” Zayn gives him another squeeze. 

“Can we maybe - would it be okay if we made those cookies again? The ones we made for Eid? Even if they’re not for Christmas, really.”

“Sunshine, I’m never gonna turn down Nan Khatai if you lot want to make them.”

“Good, then. Truffles an’ sugar ‘an gingerbread and Nan Khatai.”

“Sounds yum.” Zayn drops another kiss on his hand and lets him go back to the kitchen proper where Shawn and Louis are arguing over the Christmas music and whether Shawn should be allowed to play Glee’s covers of anything, especially  _ Last Christmas _ , because that is  _ sacred _ , how  _ dare _ you disrespect Wham! like this -

Liam glances back, but Zayn has already disappeared back into his book. The corners of his mouth are turned up contentedly, though, and Liam has a feeling it’s not just from the book.

 


End file.
